James
by lozzy-beth
Summary: A little behind the charicter of Captain Nicholls
1. Chapter 01

_**I'm a big Tom Hiddleston fan, let's face it who isn't? I also love Michael Morpurgo so obviously I love the film. Captain Nicholls is so nice and deserves a happy ending. Probably not historically accurate or 100% true to the book but it's along those lines. I own nothing.**_

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When he left Cambridge he wanted to become a lawyer and help bring more justice to the world, even if it was only in a small way. Unfortunately a stupid family tradition meant that he had to become an officer in the army. He had somehow managed to convince his Papa that he would start a humble private like everyone else that enlisted. As expected His lordship lieutenant general James Tarquin Oswald Nicholls did not understand, men of there station paid for commission and that was a fact.

The only good thing that came out of this bargain was that his farther had insisted on him joining the same cavalry regiment as his ancestors, and this suited James Jr fine. He loved horses and in training they had all been given the 'nasty' jobs such as mucking out the horses and polishing all the higher officers' brass. However while most of his comrades complained seemingly endlessly about these tasks, he positively enjoyed them, the quality time with the horses and the better understanding of the menial day to day tasks forced upon the domestic staff at home where great eye openers for him. Whenever he had a break from such tasks, running exercises, inspections and such like (which was not very often) he would concoct great fairy tales of letters home. To his Papa he would write reams of the right honourable 'gentlemen' in which he had the good fortune to share barracks with and of his eagerness to show anyone with the audacity to oppose the British army what was coming to them. To his Mama and his sister dearest Elizabeth he would tell of the easiness of his work, the goodness of his food and the comfort of his barracks. All these sentiments would occasionally be repeated to old school friends should they enquire after his health. He relayed some of the truths to one of his closest friends from boyhood and the object of his sister's affection, Jamie Stewart, who happened to also be in the cavalry. It was an unspoken agreement between Jamie and himself that they were not to address each other as dear friends unless alone as Jamie had gotten his commission as officer cadet and James did not want the other privets learning of his true privileged background, should they look less kindly upon him.

There was only one person he told his full predicament to, the only person he had ever really revealed the extent of his feelings and political views to, Tom. Tom was his best friend, and the family chauffeur. He had no idea when this unlikely bond came into being but he did know that Tom was the only person he felt could truly listen to and value his opinions, and he hoped the feeling was mutual. They were a similar age, both loved to read, both loved politics, both loved history, had younger sisters of a similar age and both adored horses. Tom, whose surname had long since been dropped from their conversations, was Irish and though he tried hard to be both brutally honest and tactful with the son of his employer could not disguise the venom in his voice when he spoke of the British forces and how they imprisoned his beloved homeland. That's why when James had revealed his plan to join the cavalry, they had stopped talking. This didn't, however, prevent James from writing to him in hope that they could renew their friendship. Sure enough the replies he got where full of concern and well wishes along with the odd gripe at class or political differences that had been common to them before the falling out.

But it was now, writing this letter, that he was unsure if their seemingly unbreakable bond could in fact be broken. He wrote and rewrote the letter several times, but in the end settled on something close to what he had in the beginning. After his enthusiasm to work had been realised he had soon risen the ranks to become Corporal Nicholls and was now ready to be sent to his first real place of conflict. He had hoped his time in the army would be like his father's, largely uneventful, though he was told many stories of the Boer wars and such he wondered how much action he had actually seen. Alas this was not to be, he was to be shipped off to Ireland where he was to enforce a regime in the name of king and country in a country that did not want them there, and in his opinion had good reason not to want them. He was in charge of a small group of men, men not his 'section' of four soldiers, men. Too often he had heard army personnel be referred to as just a number, as was the 'collateral damage' in the debriefing. And as he was watching the transporters being loaded with guns, he couldn't help but wonder _did Tom know any of the 'collateral damage'? _He knew how opinionated Tom was and would hedge a bet most of his friends and family where as well. He knew his older sister had been shot as a child, on Christmas no less. The whole family had been there, his parent, his younger sister, his three brothers, his four cousins, grandparents, aunties, uncles and he all witnessed the bullet shatter the window and pierce her fragile skull. The officer responsible wasn't even sentenced as the family couldn't afford a lawyer and the judge had quite obviously been bribed, dubbing it an 'accident' as the officer had been extremely drunk and had even had the good grace to offer to have the window replaced, which was obviously turned down. A window, the price of a child's life. It was injustices like that that made him even more determined to become a lawyer after his obligatory bout in the army. It had obviously had an effect on Tom, he had only ever mentioned it once as explanation why a young, usually outgoing, catholic refused to celebrate Christmas in any way. And even then he seemed unwilling to reveal all the details.


	2. Chapter 02

The docks at Dublin are cold and though it is not raining now the damp floor and musky smell suggests it has. The sky is grey, grey and miserable as far as the eye can see. All about there are dock workers busying about there daily duties, passengers going to and from the ferry gangways and faces of poverty scavenging the imports of unsuspecting ships. It is not the beautiful city Tom so often describes. Where are the great feats architecture, the cliffs of Moher, the botanic gardens, the friendly people and the vibrant shops? He supposed the philanthropist, pacifist, future lord, army corporal, socialist could not take things at face value. The rest of the day went past in a blur of unloading, loading, moving, unloading and arranging things. They where then given another debriefing and retired to their new quarters.

It wasn't for the next couple of weeks that he was finally aloud to explore his temporary home and see everything that Tom had described to him. He was yet to receive a reply and kept to the plan of continuing to write until being told that his efforts where unrequited. The weeks had not gone past without incident; there was the odd protester, glare from almost all passers by and even a bomb scare though nothing had come of it.

He found himself missing his home and his best friend in particular, so much that he went to the city library to see if he could find some of the books from which Tom had quoted with such passion. Needless to say they did not have many of the overtly political texts but he did manage to get his hands on an anthology of poems by John Keegan-Casey. He loved poetry, more than he would admit even to Tom or his sister, not as much as drawing though but he still loved it. His mind went back to the first time he revealed his favourite pastime to Tom.

It was Tom's 19th birthday and the first he had spent away from home. Elizabeth had found out from her maid, whom it was clear held a candle for the charmingly handsome chauffer, that his birthday was approaching and was not expecting any gifts from home because of the difficulties in sending things over. She, being the sort of person to stick her nose in everyone's business and always wanting the whole house to be a ray of sunshine, devised a plan. When the plan was relayed to him James wondered weather ladies and their maids usually discussed the men they admired and attempted to steer the plan in a more logical direction. The initial idea had been to throw Tom a party like the ones they had on their birthdays. James had persuaded her that it was not the norm foe employers to throw servants parties, though he wished he could, he reminded her that the Irish chauffer was probably not accustomed to balls and the atmosphere created would probably make him miss home more as no matter how hard they tried they could not recreate his family. It was then settled that they would just get him presents instead. The maid knew, the housekeeper (who had practically raised James between the nanny being preoccupied with Elizabeth at the age of five and him being sent to Eton at eleven and also took on the mothering role to many of the young staff members including Tom) was in on it as was he. With only a few days to go James was surprised to find he was the only one without a present. His sister had gotten a pair of driving gloves, the maid had embroidered some handkerchiefs, the house keeper purchased a fine pen and ink set and the other members of the staff to which Tom was close (the coach driver, the stable boy, the valet and one of the footmen) had collectively acquired a watch and several books he was after. At this point their relationship was at an awkward medium, he wanted to get him something personal but was still unsure of their social boundaries. So he opted for both, he got some sheets of quality paper (to go with the pen) and also sneaked into storage garage whilst Tom was working on one of the cars in the main garage connecting to the chauffeur's cottage and drew a picture of Tom's pride and joy, the black Renault. He remembered the shocked look on Tom's face and the embarrassment burning through his body when he had eventually managed to ask if he had done it.

This had brought a small smile to his face when he was awakened from his reverie by "OI WANCKER," as a rather large man going past on a bike which he skilfully managed to ride straight through a massive puddle resulting in James getting drenched in muddy water which was followed by an enthusiastic chanting of "GET BRITS OUT! GET BRITS OUT!..." and loud thunderous laughter. He could have turned round, he could have shot him there and then but he didn't. He wasn't going to be one of those soldiers who Tom mentioned, he would be an exception so he put his hands in his pockets, fists clenched from the cold and walked on trying not to show any frustration encase anyone else had the idea of winding him up further.

He hadn't been walking anywhere in particular, he had a half day and he had done everything he planned to, but he found himself in a slightly outward part of Dublin. There he saw a small stable with two horses, though he could hear work going on around the other side of the building, no one was about. He strode over to the horses, one a black Irish draught horse at around 16 hands and the other a 14 hands blue roan cob. Both stuck their heads out to him as he approached and he patted their noses slowly running his hand down the white stripe running from the black's main line to it's nose. "Beautiful creatures aren't they?" a thick Irish lilt made him spin round, he was used to hostility and had by and large managed to stay out of trouble. His eyes met with a pair of similar blueish-green orbs. "Aideen (pronounced ay+deen)" the young girl in front of him stretched out her hand, which he rather bemusedly took. She was young, didn't look much over six-teen, with dark brown hair piled up and pulled back but with the odd unruly curl coming loose, her shirt sleeves where pulled up and the bottom of her skirt was caked in mud as were her boots. "It's a stupid name I know, it means fire, me Da was a freedom fighter and me Ma said I had the same fire in me eyes." she offered trying to combat the awkward silence. James was vaguely aware of the fact that she was trying to pull her hand away.

"J…James, James Nicholls…er…Jim most people call me Jim" he was taken aback by his own inadequacy. She raised an eyebrow and leaned slightly to the side and stared at his shoulder.

"Well Sergeant Nicholls it's been nice meeting you but I must get Chestnut here ready for the cart."

"Not quite." James blushed. This comment received another weary raised eyebrow. He was quick to correct himself when he realised how his statement sounded and the impropriety of offering not only his first name but his nickname as well, "I'm Corporal Nicholls, not sergeant, at least not yet. Only two" he gestured to the insignia on his upper arm. "Well… I'll leave you to it." he smiled weakly bowing his head to her and turned to take leave only to stop and realise he had no idea where he was going. He turned to face Aideen again and, as if reading his mind, directed him back into town.

Once there he managed to find his way back to his quarters just in time for lunch. Most of his colleagues had been given the day off, a shore sign they were to be involved in something soon, and the mess hall was buzzing with relays of what had happened that day. There were to main subject topics trouble and girls. To the left of him Corporal Jones, Corporal Samways and Sergeant Green were all spewing the obscenities that they had thus far received in a show of one-upmanship and James thought that he had gotten off quite lightly. To his right was Corporal Far, one of his closest colleagues, with whom he had gone through basic training, was telling him of how the lads in his section had seemingly already made an impression on the local women and had scheduled for a dance that was coming up in a few weeks. "If my Vicky was planning on going to a dance with a 'forcie' I would skin her, let alone one from another country that she had known for less than a day!" this comment made Jim smile, Thomas Far was very protective of his little sister, the squat, rotund, fiery haired gentleman had lost his parents in a house fire when he was in his teens and treated 'his Vicky' more like a daughter. Though coming to think of it he wouldn't have been too happy if that were Elizabeth. "I mean I'm not one to make preconceived judgments about people but they don't seem to be the most chaste of girls round here." James thought back to the alarmingly forward but surprisingly polite young girl he had encountered earlier.

"Well actually…."


	3. Chapter 03

On his thirty-seventh day in Dublin he finally received a letter from Tom…

_Dear Jim,_

_ I am glad to hear that you find Dublin agreeable, I knew you would it's a wonderful city, with the __most_ _wonderful people. I have not heard any roomers to say that there will be any sort of large demonstration soon so any sense of anxiety is coming from your lot, though it wouldn't make sense to stir trouble, are you sure they're not just giving you a few days off and sending new equipment. If anything it's a sign that nothings going to happen, surely you'd be given more training drills if they suspected anything was afoot._

_Everything is good up this end. Every single car journey together your mother and sister complain endlessly of your lack of communication, please give my ears a rest and write to them, you seem to find enough time to write to me._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Tom_

It was shorter than usual and the last comment stung a little but it was something, at least it seemed he was in, his ever sarcastic, good humour.

Strait away he concocted his reply…

_Dear Tom,_

_ As you say it is a wonderful city, I'm not sure about the people tough. I suppose you're probably right (for a change), I should try to enjoy my days off though it will not be easy without my dearest friend. The torrent of general abuse on the streets tough is as rife as always. All of your fruitful ways of describing the British forces hold nothing on some of these chaps. I wonder if such a polite young man with such decorum as yourself has even heard of any of these words. _

_There is a lot of excitement between the lads about this annual dance thing that's going on soon, it seems to have the entire city talking about it, do you have any idea what it is and why its so important to so many people. I shall try and write more often to Mama and Lizzy, I don't think they quite appreciate the time it takes for letters to get there from here. Not that there's anything I particular to write about anyway, nothing they would need to know._

_I have found some of the books you have told me about and I can't wait to discus them with you when I return home on holyday next month. I know you take great comfort in gifts only accessible here, is there anything you wish for me to send over?_

_Hope to hear from you soon_

_Jim_

After that he wrote a letter each to his Mama and Elizabeth, writing a small paragraph at the end of his mother's for his Papa. It was still morning; they had received the post after breakfast as usual and he knew one of the privates who was assigned as messenger boy would be collecting reply's to take to the post office in about half an hour. He left the letters on his bed along with a picture he had done of the city library which he intended to send to Tom. He was not in full uniform as the commanding officers rarely did inspections in the mess hall and more out of boredom then anything else, started to fix his tie and cuffs, leaving his top button slightly undone but with a high tie, and fetched his jacket and re-combed his hair. After doing all he could think of to keep himself occupied he decided to just go out and post the letters himself.

It was a surprisingly warm day for the Irish winter. He was yet again free of duties for the majority of the day that remained as he liked to rise early and get his chores done before breakfast; this left him once more at a loss of things to do. He had intended to spend his day off on Sunday buying commodities to send home then take a picnic out to the grounds of Dublin Castle, which he planned to draw, but with nothing else to do he decided to move the later forward.

When he got back to the base, to retrieve his sketchbook and charcoals, he noticed the officers were coming out of the officer's mess. The newly appointed Lieutenant Jamie Stewart was looking decidedly down beat and walked alone towards the paddock where the horses were kept, James knew from past experiences that this usually meant something was very wrong, as the happy go lucky socialite rarely saw himself unfit for human company and officers only ever visited their mounts in the stables once the horses had been prepared. He decided to fetch his drawing equipment first, to give Jamie some time to himself and to give him an excuse for going to the paddock.

He arrived there to find Jamie sat on the fence head down, there was no one else around at this time of day and he decided that it would be better to go straight to him and greet him rather than waiting to be noticed. "Good morning James!" he chided. Jamie seemed to start at his voice but smiled when he saw who it was, even if that smile did fade after a few seconds only to be replaced by a less sincere one.

"Why hello there James." he replied, carrying on the old childhood joke.

"It's a fine day to day isn't it James?"

"I suppose it is James, yes. And what brings you here today?"

He sheepishly held up his sketchbook and pencils and waved them a bit. Though he had not actually come to draw and despite the fact that it was Jamie, who already knew of his drawing, he still felt rather embarrassed to admit to his hobby.

"And what, pray tell, are you doing here?" he sat on the fence post next to his friend after giving him a half hearted salute.

"I just find it easier to talk to the horses." Jamie sighed, hoping his friend would see his dejection and not press the subject further. Jim continued to look at him, his eyes radiated warmth as only his could, and Jamie looked away.

After a few extended minutes passed, they where still sat there in silence. As Jim had made no move to pursue his sketching Jamie realised the true meaning for his friends visit and caved in to his concerned stare.

"Well, you see, the thing is…" his neck and face grew red as he realised who he was talking to "I…I…have you heard anything from Elizabeth recently?"

"Not since last week, she wrote a surprisingly long letter about her new frock which she was going to wear for a birthday ball of one of her friends, why?"

"Did she say anything of any guests at this party?"

"Not that I can recall."

"Did she mention anyone called Harry, Harry Percy, future duke of Northumberland?"

"I don't think so, I know she is close to a Penelope Percy of Northumberland, and I have heard conversations of several brothers. I suppose one of them could have been a Harry but I've never met any of them."

"Do you ever think that this is getting in the way of things?" He gestured to his body. Jim looked down at hi perplexed. "The army I mean, do you ever think it gets in the way of other things?"

"I don't really think I had any other things to get in the way of, and those that I did, like keeping acquaintances, I do via letters. Why, do you ever think it gets in the way of things?" Jim asked, but he was fairly shore he knew where this conversation was heading.

"Well yes." Jamie bit his lip, opened his mouth to say something then closed it again.

"Like what?" Jim understood how this conversation was awkward for Jamie but his saintly patience was running thin.

"You know, life, relationships…"

"My sister" Jamie's head snapped round, he looked startled. Jim laughed. "Oh come on Jamie you two have been flirting with courtship since we were children, do you think I wouldn't have noticed?" Jamie turned an even brighter shade of red.

"Well none of that matters now." He sighed again and passed Jim a peace of paper from his inside pocket. That peace of paper was covered in his sister's scrawl, he read it. There was only one brief mention of this 'Harry' and Jim wondered what the fuss was about. "You see."

"See what?" he said handing the letter back.

"See what she wrote about _him_." This last word was said with a venom that Jim had never heard his friend speak with before, or since.

"That he had asked her to reserve a dance for him and that she looked forward to it." This was not uncommon practise in their circle; in fact Jim could name many girls in which Jamie had asked for such an honour. But Jamie looked visibly deflated. "It's hardly a marriage proposal" he offered "if he was anyone important she'd have told me. Look next time I write to her I'll ask about him."

"But then she'll know we've had this conversation!" he protested.

"Well why wouldn't we, we're friends, we're just sharing news from home, and as her older brother I want to know what sort of man she dances with. Any way wouldn't it make sense to tell her how you feel about it, she may not even realise you reciprocate her feelings." Jim got up and left before Jamie could protest further and said a silent prayer of thanks that his heart had never been slighted by such an unkind, unnecessary burden.


	4. Chapter 04

This 'Harry' fellow was, as he suspected, the eldest brother of Lizzy's friend Penelope. His sister was a little annoyed about his sudden interest in her personal life, they had never really had any secrets from each other, there was a general rule between then that what needed to be said would be said at some point. Of coarse Lizzy being Lizzy would always try and push him to reveal all and in many cases push him to having something to reveal but they had never given opinion on each others personal affairs until now. He had simply said he would not advise her to dance with someone she had only met once and tried to mention Jamie and his concern for her well being and after knowing her for as long as he had he was worried that she had not told Jim as well as emphasising the importance of his promotion.

Along with the letter from Elizabeth was a letter from his Mama about Harry Percy and what a wonderful gentleman he was and how influential and for some reason kept repeating that Elizabeth was almost twenty-one. He decided to find Jamie when the officers had finished breakfast. In the meanwhile he readied himself for his breakfast and went through what he was going to say in his head. Of all the things he learnt how to do without having servants, how to change bed linen, how to wash clothes, how to clean equipment and to some extent how too cook, but he still struggled to correctly dress in full uniform.

The up and coming dance in Dublin was still the talk of the mess. He had learnt from Tom that this dance was an annual Christmas dance held in the town hall that had all residents of the beautiful city from all cults and creeds and all ages and walks of life were welcomed and had a good time. Tom of course, had only ever been twice and as he didn't really celebrate Christmas he wasn't as exited as everyone else. James couldn't help but wonder whether the officer's mess was as alive with talk of the dance and how Jamie was feeling about it and whether he was thinking more about an up and coming dance in England. It turned out that all young single soldiers where expected to be there as a show of good will to the locals, their commanding officer had even come in and told them they were given the day off explicitly for that cause. James had never really enjoyed the balls and dances his parents held, and had actively tried to avoid going to ones hosted by family friends. It was not that he didn't enjoy dancing, he enjoyed it very much, but his favourite and most memorable dances had been those with his sister when she had been deemed to young to dance or when she was avoiding an un-amiable admirer. The sort of women in his family's acquaintance where all frankly, dull. They had no political views and had no desire to posses them, none were interested in history they just aimed to be comfortable in life and bare children, that was it. He occasionally found someone to whom he could speak about poetry or horses but this was not enough to base a relationship on, which annoyed his mother and sister endlessly. He knew his farther relied upon him to produce an heir but was happy for him to pursue his army, and hopefully one day legal, career. However it seemed impossible to his female relations that he was just not interested in such matters. Though he supposed the dance would be a million miles away from what he was used to and Corporals Samways, Malt and Clough were all planning on going together and stand by the punch and buffet table as none were interested in making any sort of acquaintances and had invited him to join them.

"You got a young lass to go with, then?" Corporal Far leant towards him attempting to make himself heard over the chatter.

"No, I think I might just stand with some of the lads."

"Not your sought of dancing then?"

"I don't know, what sort of dancing is it?"

"Old Irish dances called 'polka' and such the like as far as I can tell, mixed with some of that inappropriate modern stuff that's apparently going on in London."

"I wouldn't know what ether are like to say weather it's my sort or not."

"Not your sort of girl then?"

"Again not having met many, I wouldn't know. Then again I don't really have a 'sort' of girl, unless you count the ones with four legs, mains, tails and hooves." Corporal Far let out a snort of laughter at this.

"I must say I agree with you, but er… don't tell the miss's."

"What about you, have you found yourself one of these famed Irish beauties?"

"Corporal Nicholls!" he feigned a state of shock "I am a married man, and as such I feel no obligation to go to such a dance."

"No obligation, but are you?"

"Nah, as much as I joke, there's only one women for me and she is waiting for me back in Kent." Seemingly forgetting James was there he stared wistfully at the ring on his left hand.

Breakfast finished around the same time it usually did and Jim went back to his barrack and waited until the officers where scheduled to finish theirs. He stood back at a distance as the men filed out and he saw a once again solitary Jamie head for the paddock. They could not have a long chat as he was to instruct a training session with his section.

Jamie was again sat on the same peace of fence looking as ashen faced as he had for the past eleven days. "I have a reply." he said completely dispensing of pleasantries and formal greetings as no one else was near by and he did not want to prolong his friends suffering further.

"So do I." Jamie sniffed. This startled James, Jamie had always been so brave and the heart and soul of the party, and now he looked close to tears. How could a girl, his sister for that matter, bring such a man to such a state? "She said she told me that in confidence and asked what business of mine it was." He swallowed hard, trying his best to fight the tears. "Oh, what should I do?" This was meant as a rhetorical question but he was not surprised when Jim replied.

"Tell her. Tell her what business of yours it was." He made it sound so simple.

"But what if she does have feelings for him, I would just make myself look a fool. I don't want to jeopardise our friendship more then I already have, she said I betrayed her confidence!" He let out a low whine, which made Jim moan, exasperated.

"She doesn't sound that in to him, if anything she sounded more annoyed at my enquiries. It was Mama that was singing his praises." It was this comment that made him realise the true tones of his letters and understand the situation, admittedly he didn't know why she told Jamie but supposed she was being forced to make any pending 'good match' known and had perhaps hoped to prompt Jamie into showing any signs in sharing the feelings she so obviously had for him. Obvious to everyone, except Jamie. "Just tell her!" and with that he was gone.

The training session was pretty straight forward, somehow barking instructions on how to load and fire a rifle to already capable men was considered a show of great teamwork and leadership skills. Needless to say there were no misfired rounds or missed targets. Following this they marched around the perimeter once, checked on their horses, had lunch, went on another march, ran at some sandbags with bayonets and called it a day and prepared for the following mornings inspection before heading to the mess hall for dinner and finally the barracks for checkers, card games, letter writing and bed. This had become common practice since the commanding officers decided they couldn't just keep giving them all days off. James couldn't help but muse that they would be useless in times of actual warfare as they were using up so much ammunition in training.


	5. Chapter 05

After three days of utter misery and no action James decided to act on Jamie's behalf.

_Dearest Lizzy,_

_ I know you fear I am interfering in your personal life, to which I have no right. But I beg of you to hear me, as a think I act in everyone's best interest. I know there is a supposed appeal between you and a previously mentioned Mr Percy but I must know in any uncertain terms whether this fact is true or not. I think not as the previous letter I have received from you inadvertently shows, the letter from Mama however, is the stuff of sonnets dedicated to the man. On this I base my assumption that you do not love him and hope your reply is to affirm this notion._

_And from this question I shall ask another, and that is all, from this letter onwards I will not pry into your private life further. Do you bear such feelings for Jamie? And please do not feel he betrayed you. He loves you. That is the reason he told me, that is the reason I now ask. He loves you and is too scared of rejection to confront you. He made me promise not to say anything but I feared you would both end up unhappy if I didn't._

_Yours sincerely_

_Your darling Jim_

This time he left it to the post boy and decided to come clean to Jamie about what he had just done. He was waiting his usual safe distance from the officer's mess when he was cornered by Corporal Samways, "Has Eddie said anything to you?"

"Which Eddie, Clough or Barn?"

"Clough."

"Not since I spoke to him with you in the mess two days ago. Why?"

"You know he was the one suggesting we all go to that wretched dance thing together."

"Yes…"

"Well, yesterday Arthur was asking me if we were supposed to go in our uniforms or a suit. I didn't know so I asked Eddie and he said he would be wearing a suit to impress his lovely lady friend. Only no one else seems to know anything about it and considering he asked me, you and Arthur about the whole group thing we assumed he must have said something to one of us."

"No, that's the first I've heard of it. I thought he was the one that made most of the jokes about the Irish, the women in particular."

"He is, that's why it's so weird."

"Will, what are we supposed to wear?"

"I have no idea." At this he saluted and stood to attention, Jim looked on perplexed.

There was a sound coming from behind him, the sound of someone clearing their throat. James turned around to see a peaky looking Jamie staring at him through sunken eyes, he had a sudden urge to hug his friend but realise who and where he was and also saluted and stood to attention. "At ease." Jamie faintly mumbled "I need one of you fine corporals to run me an urgent message." James and Will looked at each other and then back to Jamie.

Eventually Will said "Isn't that a privates job, Sir?"

"I need someone who the Colonel will take seriously." Once again Jim and Will looked to one another and back.

"I will Sir." Will offered.

"Thank you Corporal Samways." He handed Will a letter, bowed his head to leave and both corporals saluted as he saluted back. James knew something was wrong. That was a task meant for a private and the only reason he could think of for Jamie to ask them was if he wanted to talk to him alone.

Once Will had left he followed Jamie at a polite distance. "Sir, is there anything you wish for me to do?"

"I heard talk of a horse going lame in the paddocks, could you go look?"

"Right away sir." The paddock was very big but Jim had a feeling he would know where to find this 'lame horse'.

He sat on their usual part of the fence and waited. Eventually, as he had suspected, he was joined by Jamie.

"I was thinking about what you said, about telling her."

"Good."

"Only, I don't quite know what to say. I've tried, I really have. I didn't sleep at all last night, I stayed up late trying to write her a letter but the words didn't come. Once I decided to call it a night and go to bed the words didn't stop coming, so many words came that I felt I had to write them down, but when I got up and to my desk I was just stuck for words again. Oh, Jim you're ever so good with words, what should I say?" _What I already said to her_ he thought, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say this after such an intimate admission. He thought hard.

"Say to her what you've said to me, you love her, you're sorry it took until the point of jealousy to see that and you can't stoop thinking about her."

"But what if such statements get discarded? Our friendship would not survive that."

"They wont and surely if you do not make your intentions clear and she does go on to form a relationship with someone else, be it this Harry or not, then your friendship would not survive that."

"But she must have feelings for him or she wouldn't have mentioned him to me."

"I've already told you, I believe…"

"You BELIEVE, I can not base this on beliefs!"

"I believe that it is Mama putting pressure on her, I believe she didn't tell me because it isn't serious in her heart and she told you because she wanted you to be jealous, she wants you to want her but she is, as you are, to afraid of ruining your friendship to say so."

"And what if your Mama does not consider me worthy, look what this future duke can give her. My father may be a knight but I have no title."

"You can give her happiness. You are Lieutenant Jamie Stewart, and you will climb the ranks further, I am sure of it. And did your father not get the knighthood after he retired from the army. Not having a title doesn't make you any less of a man. And don't speak as if your something that has just been swept up off the street, is your mother not the youngest daughter of an earl? Are you not well bread and well educated and well financed despite the lack of a title?" A small smile played on Jamie's lips.

"You should be a commanding officer with motivational speeches like that."

"And maybe one day I will be, or maybe I won't. Maybe once my Papa has decided I have had enough time in the cavalry I will go on to become a lawyer as I have always hoped I would be. But to achieve either of these goals I need to go out and get them. I know it is sometimes hard for men of our standing to not just be given tings on a plate but anything worth having is worth striving for."

"Yes Colonel Nicholls, Sir." He winked and nudged Jim, a small glimmer of what once was Jamie. Both men started to laugh uncontrollably.

"Speaking of colonels, what did you send Will Samways to do?"

"Just give him a letter."

"How did you know he would offer to go?"

"I didn't but if you offered then I could go to the officer's barracks and met you there and if he offered to go then I had you alone there."

"But you didn't say anything to me, I offered to help you."

"Yes and I know you and I knew you would, it would look more proper that way. What where you two talking about anyway, you seemed a bit hush?"

"Just some gossip." Jamie frowned.

"It's not like you to gossip."

"Not gossip as such, you see a group of us Corporals Edward Clough, Arthur Malt, William Samways and I are being forced to go to the Christmas dance thing, as a 'good will' gesture all single personnel are expected to be there. We've even been given the day off. It's been the talk of the mess…"

"I can imagine. And this gossip, is it about a particular girl?" he waggled his eye brows.

"No actually, the reason I mentioned them three in particular is we were all planning in sticking together at the buffet table, thus avoiding the dance while being there…"

"I thought that such a dance would be right up your street, with all your 'how the other half live' nonsense…"

"Yes, well, as you may recall dances have never been my thing." Jamie chuckled.

"Quite, so what is this juicy peace of gossip then?"

"I'd tell you if stopped interrupting me. It was originally Eddie's er… Corporal Clough's idea. Only when Will, Corpor…"

"Yes, Samways, I know. Officers are capable of learning two names you know."

"When Will asked him if he knew weather we were expected to wear suites or uniform he told Will he would be wearing a suit for his 'lovely lady friend'."

"And who's she?"

"We have no idea. Since when were you bothered about the gossip of the lower ranks anyway?"

"Since I need cheering up and you're petty frets do just that." He may be an officer but Jamie was still like an annoying brother to him, and Jim had a mind to thump him. "Now about this letter," Jim groaned.

"I've told you what to put!"

"But not how to put it." There was a whine in Jamie's voice that Jim wasn't sure whether it was intentional.

"It won't be your letter if I do, you want her to see your feelings are genuine, you have to make it sound like it comes from you."

The next day Jamie found him after breakfast, obviously not having had anything to eat as the officers had longer in their mess. He gave him a piece of paper that had the majority of it's writing crossed out and rewritten. This was apparently the fifth draft and he wanted it checking. It astounded Jim that someone as confident and articulate as Jamie struggled to get a basic message across to someone he knew so well and for so long, thank goodness he already sent his letter to Lizzy.


	6. Chapter 06

The day of the long anticipated dance dawned, James arrived at their meeting point (the gates to the camp) at the allotted time (half past six, on the dot). Arthur was already there, in his uniform as instructed. They stood and spoke of the various roomers behind Eddie's mystery girl, the identity of which had become a well guarded secret; she was a tall blonde with blue eyes and brown hair made to look even more stunning by her hazel eyes. True to form Will was a few minutes late and he continued in their conversation as they walked up to the city hall.

"You know I heard she's a doctor."

"Really? I heard nurse."

"A doctor? Will are you mad, women don't become doctors round here."

"Just because it's harder, doesn't mean they can't."

"Wait a second Jim, I thought you just said nurse."

"I did, doesn't mean it's true. And I was just saying women…"

"Can be just as capable as men." the other two chorused, rolling their eyes.

"Who did you hear that off anyway?"

"Tom Far."

"He's the one who told me doctor!"

"How would he know?"

"Apparently he was at the hospital to deliver a letter about finding a stand in doctor for the camp after Dr Monroe fell ill and he saw Eddie flirting with a nurse."

"Why would he deliver a letter, he's a corporal?"

"Why would Lieutenant Stewart sent me the other day, they think 'coz they're so high up everyone else is they're own personal servant, you heard him Jim he needed someone 'the colonel will take seriously', my arse, that was for a private to do but when you're a newly promoted officer it doesn't matter." Jim's stomach turned and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from saying something he would regret in Jamie's defence.

"I know right, he joined up six months after we did, we technically have more experience than him. Just because his family paid for his commission he gives the orders."

"He could have gone for a higher post though, he got commissioned the lowest officer rank and worked his way to where he is now, it couldn't have been easy, and he still had to train."

"You mean you agree with it Jim?"

"With what?"

"Commission."

"Well just because I didn't take it, it doesn't mean…"

"Wait, you could have taken it?"

"Christ mate, I know you speak posher than the rest of us, I didn't think you were that posh!"

"Well…I…I'm not really… You know posher isn't a word."

"Don't change the subject. And if anything that proves it."

"Just because my Papa is rich doesn't mean…"

"Oh, Papa, that DEFINATELEY proves it!" Jim could feel his face turning scarlet and he just wanted to run back to his bed. The other two didn't seem to notice as they were in fits of hysterics. Thankfully they had just come into earshot of the music and the subject was dropped.

"Are either of you actually going to dance tonight, I want to know now so I don't get abandoned without warning again?"

"No I'm not."

"Why, are these not the sort of girl's papa would approve of?" Or maybe not.

"If you must know, no they're probably not, not that it makes the slightest bit of difference. I just don't like dances." Arthur and Will gave each other a look that meant the subject was well and truly dropped, it obviously hit a nerve. They entered the big wooden doors and into the crowd.

"Where is the table?"

"What?"

"Where is…"

"WHAT?"

"WHERE IS…" Jim had the good sense to take his friend's sleeves and pull them to the corner furthest away from the music and the large gathering of people, deep in conversation. "Where is the table?" Arthur eventually got out.

"There by the band." Will pointed.

"Well that's not going to work is it?"

"We could always just stand here."

"How will we get a drink though?"

"We could take it in turns to go to the bar and bring the drinks over."

"By James I think you've got it."

"I thought it was by Jove?"

"Well done Will, that's the joke."

"Don't you mean Will done?"

"Oh, ha ha ha, you two are bloody hilarious."

"So, who's getting the first drinks?"

"Well if that's you offering Arthur."

"Yeh, is that you offering?"

"I suppose so, but you'll both have to at some point. What'll it be then?"

"I fancy trying some Guinness it seems the right place for it."

"Me too." In truth Jim had no idea what 'guinness' was, but he didn't think they'd have the sort of brandy, ports and wines he was used to and he didn't want to ask encase the earlier conversation was brought back up again.

Minutes later Arthur reappeared, balancing three pint glasses filled to brim with a black liquid in a sort of triangle. Will and Jim took a glass each and thanked him. Arthur was the first to take a swig Jim and Will watched him, waiting for a verdict. "I've had it before, if it wasn't nice I wouldn't have gotten it again." And with that the other two drank. James almost choked. He had never been much of a drinker, never any more than two small sparsely filled glasses. He had to steel himself for his next mouthful. He decided he quite liked the taste but was sure the one pint would be more than his fill for the night.

They continued to drink and talk, Jim wasn't even three quarters of the way down his pint when the other two had finished so Will went to get him and Arthur another one. When he submerged from the crowd he practically ran back to them, trying not to spill the drinks which made it turn into a bit of a skip. "You'll never guess who I just saw?"

"Who?"

"Eddie and he was with someone." he waggled his eyebrows.

"I thought we knew that."

"What does she look like?"

"Short, blonde, nice shape though and well dressed. I think we should go say hello."

"Will!"

"Oh come on Jim, you can't say you're not curious."

"Maybe a little bit, but shouldn't we wait for him to introduce us?"

"Jim's right, we shouldn't spoil it for him."

"Guys, we'll be doing the poor girl a favour, it's better she finds out what Eddie's really like now."

"What do you mean 'what he's really like'?"

"You know, make a few jokes about how many girls he goes with, mention his untidiness and the way he snores down the entire barracks."

"But only one of those is true, and if they're meant to be together surely a little bit of snoring won't stand in the way of true love."

"Jim, I didn't know you were such a romantic."

"He's right, it's not fair."

"Oh fine then. But you two aren't in the next bed to him, I sleep with cotton wool in my ears, cotton wool!" Will huffed in mock annoyance.

In time, when Jim was half way through his pint and the other two were on their third, a practically happy looking Eddie came sauntering over to them with an attractive blonde on his arm. Jim had always preferred girls with dark hair and light eyes, but he could see how she could be envied. "Gentlemen and Will," Eddie winked "this is Grace." he gestured to the women. Will and Arthur shook her hand as did Jim reluctantly, he had been brought up to kiss a ladies hand in such circumstances. "And I am sure they are full of untrue stories about me they wish to share with you, do you three mind looking after her while I fetch her a drink?" he left without an answer. There was a slight awkward pause.

"So you are all Corporals then?"

"Yes, yes we are." Will and Arthur were glad Jim took the lead.

"And all from the same regiment I gather."

"Yes, and you? Do you do anything?"

She blushed "I'm training to be a doctor actually." Will gave Arthur a look as if to say 'I told you so'.

"So when do you finish your raining and become a doctor then?" Will suddenly found his voice enough to drive the point home.

"Sometime next September I should imagine."

"How interesting a women doctor round here." He looked more at Arthur as he said this.

"Yes well, most men don't approve."

"We are not most men." Just the Eddie interrupted, handing her a glass of something while taking a mouthful of his own drink. They stood there and chatted idly until they finished their drinks and returned to the dance floor for a waltz. Grace seemed nice enough, not much in conversation but then she did seem a bit nervous, perhaps she would be better at banter once she got to know them better.

The time eventually came when it was Jim charged with getting the next round. He pushed his way through a seemingly endless jungle of people to get to the bar. He had to wait in a queue for a minute or two before being served. "Three pints of Guinness please." as soon as the words escaped his lips he regretted them, he was already light headed he really shouldn't drink anymore. He put his money down as the barman pulled the pints and attempted to pick them up in the triangle formation Will and Arthur had, he managed it just, and headed back.

Those pints went down quicker than the previous ones and Jim was desperate for the lavatory. It was agreed that as he was going up that way, he would get the next round on the way back. He fought his way through the crowd once more.

Heading back he went to the bar but the alcohol was affecting his motoring skills and just before he got there he walked into somebody, spilling the drinks they were carrying all over them. "I am so sorry." he breathed taking the glasses from the girl's hands and setting them, half full, on the bar. He turned around to see Aideen, the girl with the horses and the unusual name, the girl he had just spilt two glasses of whisky down. "Here let me buy you some more."

"No it's fine, it was my fault." She blushed, wiping her hand down her dress.

"No, it was mine. Please, I insist." They're eyes met again, just for a second.

"OI! Mate, what do you think your doin'?" A tall, burley, blond haired man squared up to him, their faces almost touching, glared down at James with fiery green eyes.

"Paddy, don't!" Aideen cried indignantly. "It was an accident." Another man, short but well built, came and put a hand on Paddy's chest pushing him away gently.

"Don't make a scene, if not for you're sake then hers." he whispered to Paddy, it was only just audible to James.

Paddy looked at Aideen and stepped back before leaning in and whispering to Jim "This aint over!" and stalking off.

"Are you ok?" the short man, not really a man he didn't look long out of his teens if at all, turned to Aideen and put a hand her forearm.

"Yes thank you, you should go find him before he does something stupid, you know what he's like." The boy smiled.

"And I thought he was supposed to be chaperoning us." They each let out a little laugh and the boy disappeared. James stood there, frozen to the spot.

"Sorry about my brother, he has a hot head. He's just trying to look out for me you know." Jim was still quiet. "You don't like to say much do you?"

"Jim, your joking me aren't you? He's a right goby…" Will came out of no where.

"Will not when there are young ladies about!" Jim loved his friends but they didn't know the difference between army life and the outside world.

"It's Ok, I aint much of a lady."

"Now will you let me get you those drinks?" Just then Arthur came in.

"Is everything alright? It looked like a fight was brewing." Aideen blushed again _God she's beautiful when she blushes_, James was taken aback by his own thoughts.

"It's fine, I spilt some drinks and my brother went off the rails."

"You mean I spilt your drinks, what were they?"


	7. Chapter 07

If you had told James he would have started the evening with his nobility almost being found out, followed by three pints of Guinness, the threat of a fight and ended it by doing the military two step with an alcohol soaked Aideen as her beau went looking for her crazed brother he would probably not have believed you. However, that is exactly what happened. After that the three of them had offered to walk her home, she declined but Will insisted for some reason. They were about quarter of an hour into their walk when they came across her beau, Sean, heading back to the hall and he took her the rest of the way.

"So do you know her well?"

"No, only met her once, I got lost and I was admiring her horses." Will leant over to Arthur and whispered something in his ear, they laughed.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing."

"He said 'is that what they call it now'."

"Call what?"

"Lay off it Jim, you were admiring her." his raised eyebrows denoted the tone of the comment.

"I admit she is handsome, but that is as far as it goes. I don't even know her."

"You seemed to spend a lot of time talking for two people who don't know each other."

"Unlike you Will, I actually know how to talk to a woman."

"I'll have you know I have the greatest lines in all of Devonshire."

"Without the wont of anything further. I was hardly giving her 'lines', we spoke of politics."

"But that's not saying you didn't want to."

"Yes it is. If I'm the one who's supposedly chatting her up why did you insist on walking her home?"

"Because you would never of had the guts to ask." Jim stopped. He was starting to get frustrated, it was bad enough mother his sister trying to pair him off at every dance, he didn't need Will doing it as well. Why could no one understand he was not interested in any of it? Yes she was pretty and yes she was quite articulate and shared some political views and yes perhaps he saw her as a potential friend but anything further than that was beyond him. He didn't want a relationship, his family would never agree with her, her family would never agree with him (that much was obvious) and she sounded completely taken with Sean.

"It was just a dance Will." He could have kissed Arthur at that point.

"Oh come on Arthur, you saw the way they looked at each other."

"No, I didn't, that was just you." Will stormed off. "Hey, wait, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?"

"What was that about?"

"I have no idea, I think he drank too much."

"He's going in completely the wrong direction."

"If he's going to be an arse let him." Arthur continued their walk and after a moments hesitation, followed. They went on in a comfortable silence.

Just as they reached the base gates Arthur turned to Jim and said "Look, I know what he said was bang out of order and extremely childish but don't be too hard on him. If he gets back on time for the morning call and no one notices he's gone AWAL you won't say anything will you?"

"No, I would never, he may be acting up but he's still my friend."

They set off again. "You know he doesn't do it to be spiteful."

"Do what?"

"Trying to goad you into a relationship you don't want or need, saying he's going to make jokes about Eddie and then not following through. I know I promised not to say anything to anyone elase but I think you need to know, this is between you and me right?"

"It depends…"

"Right?"

"Right."

"He lost his fiancé to pneumonia about two years ago. To him life is short and love is precious, he just wanted you to be happy. Ok he was an arse about it but he was drunk and he meant well." James was stunned into silence.


	8. Chapter 08

The next few days went past the same as all the others, a mixture of pointless exercises and even more pointless time off. To try and combat this, the commanding officers had decided to volunteer some of the men to the police. They all had a rotor and next Friday was to be Jim's first along with a private called Simon Hay and Will Samways, who had since apologised and they were now back to their old ways.

Army life was beginning to grate with Jim, he did the same chores as he did everyday and had the same breakfast he had everyday and was not in high spirits. He was not feeling down though, just bored. He knew the rest of the day would be full of unnecessary exercises and tomorrow would be spent trying with all his might to keep his brain active, Friday would come as a pleasant change, even if it turned out to be an unpleasant experience.

He headed back to his barrack hoping there would be some word from Tom to keep him entertained for at least a little while, the post had been late that morning and they had not yet received it, making conversation in the mess run a little dryer than usual. Just then he saw Jamie running towards him. Before he knew it he had been swept up into a rather enthusiastic embrace. Luckily everyone else was slower to leave the mess, probably because they had nothing better to do, and no one saw the encounter. When he finally pulled back Jamie was ginning from ear to ear, making his usually scrupulously combed moustache bend into a bizarre shape. "I got a reply, she said YES!" and as quickly as he came he was gone, running off to what James presumed to be the post office.

When he got to his barracks he found his post had been left on his bed. There was a letter from his Mama, Tom and Lizzy judging by the handwriting as well as a postcard from an uncle and aunt currently holidaying in India. He opened Lizzy's first, fairly shore of its contents,

_To my darling Jim,_

_ As you are probably aware you are no longer my most darling James. Words cannot describe how grateful I am to you._

_With loving wishes_

_Your dearest Lizzy._

He must admit it was sparse in detail and would have been better as a telegram, but it was lovely. With not much to dwell on he moved onto his mother's letter. It was pretty nondescript, it too reported on the new union of Lizzy and Jamie but in a less positive light, it did not say anything against Jamie but there was quite a lot in favour of Harry Percy who was apparently devastated by the news. He was sure his Mama had made this up, he may have said his regrets at Lizzy refuting his offer of a dance as she no longer wished to dance with anyone at the party, but as much as he loved Lizzy he didn't think anyone could be heartbroken after one short encounter. And last, but by no means least, he came to Tom's letter,

_Dear Jim,_

_ As I don't suspect your parents to notify you of the comings and goings of the household staff and as all your sister seems to talk about, to practically anyone who will listen, is your good friend Mr. Stewart I think I will be the first to inform you that I may in fact be joining you in Dublin shortly. I wish this news could come with glad tidings but the reason for my venture is to visit my Da who is taken ill. If it is serious enough I may have to leave your families employment in the near future._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Tom_

This was not the letter he had expected but he was glad of it, obviously he was sad for Tom (he had always spoken fondly of his father and it sounded pretty serious), but he was exited at the prospect at being able to speak with him again. And with that thought and the thought of his friends and sisters evident happiness, he was mood was lifted.


	9. Chapter 09

Friday came quicker than expected. He and Will had arranged to meet by the gate and walk to the station. Once there they were greeted by less than enthusiastic constables and sent to sit outside the inspector's office and wait for him to finish a meeting with one of the detectives. Quarter of an hour into their wait they were saved by Private Simon 'Simmie' Hay who had been called to cover a shift earlier in the day and took it upon himself to show them round.

It seemed they were to be employed mainly to patrol the streets and keep an eye out for trouble, reporting any major incidents to Mountjoy prison and treat minor offences with a loud voice and a hard blow, preferably around the area of vital organs. This seemed rather harsh to James, he wondered weather such treatment would just evolve into a higher contempt for the British forces. Even Will, who often voiced his general abhorrence of the Irish, seemed a little uneasy. Simmie seemed like a nice enough lad, from his accent he was Scottish, but he seemed a bit too matter of fact about handling of the people placed supposedly in their protection.

They had been on their beat for half an hour when Simmie's shift ended. They had gotten to know him a little better in this time and discovered that his hatred of the Irish stemmed from his mother leaving him, his father and his brothers for a fisherman from Belfast. This news, however, did not stop them from discussing the injustice of the tasks they were expected to carry out once he had gone.

"You know, I was talking to Vincent yesterday and he said two minutes in that place made him want to relieve himself of his breakfast, said he didn't know why they called it Mountjoy it's the most depressing place he's ever been. And he comes from Leeds."

"Really, come on Will, that's a bit of an exaggeration isn't it?"

"Let's hope we don't have to find out."

"Do you think we'll have to use these truncheons?"

"No there just for show."

"I thought that was the guns."

"They both are Jim. Who's exaggerating now?"

"But what if someone sees through the bluff and comes at us?"

"For Christ's sake, you're in the army man!"

"I know that, it just seems wrong to act on a civilian."

"Not if they start on us first it isn't."

"But Simmie said…"

"Well maybe we don't have to play 'Simon says', we could be the fun ones, those Fenian pigs need someone to look out for them with guys like him around."

"Will! Not that that sort of language isn't bad enough, but look where we are! (Jim gestured round one of the most densely occupied streets in Dublin) I don't want to beat anyone up but we also can't be seen to be 'the fun ones' or we'll get walked all over."

"OK, here's the deal, we each offer two warnings to any situation, on the second we start to drum our truncheons in our hands. If it carries on each participants gets a sharp thwack to the head, enough to hurt but not badly injure, and anyone stupid enough to do anything after that is looking for a fight and not worth the sympathy. Then we use all our strength to drag them to prison as roughly as possible."

"Is the last part really necessary?"

"Hopefully it won't be. Look Jim, it's only every other Friday until they can find us something proper to do."

"Fine, a total of four warnings, minimal force and only if they're not in compliance then do we strike unarmed civilians with grievous intent." They shook on this seemingly fair arrangement. "Wait what if they're armed, we can't just stand around issuing warnings and not taking actions?"

"Then we give only one warning each and then go into the last one." They shook on it again. "We could call it the WTMM plan of action, fist a Warning, second warning as a Threat, Minimum force then Maximum force. WTMM phases one, two, three and four. Anyone armed goes from phase one to four. We should tell everyone else, make it a thing,"

"We've already agreed, why does it have to have phases and have an acronym?"

"Because this is the army and it's what we do."

The rest of the day was nondescript, they walked up and down the same five streets for three hours, with regular breaks. They spoke of recent letters from home and laughed at Eddie's growing lack of self-awareness thanks to the soon to be doctor Grace any other aspects of the trivial soldiers life.

By the time James got back to his barracks he was in good need of his bed. Corporal Far was already asleep, Jim wondered after his health as he had complained of a headache at lunch, and the other two men with whom the shared the small barrack hut had been put on the rotor for police duty that evening and had not yet returned.

That night Jim had the strangest of dreams. He was alone in the dark and was unable to move, he screamed for help but none came. Suddenly a pair of giant, faceless, fierce green eyes peered down on him, their anger burning him from the inside. The green of the eyes turned into a field and he suddenly found himself in the saddle. The horse was unfamiliar to him, he knew this, but in his dream it was as if he were riding his childhood mare in a bewildering mix of fiction and reality that only a dream could produce. They were riding along with other horses and men, all bearing the same sinister lance which he now brandished in his hand, its blade ripping through unidentified bodies as if they were the sandbags used in training. He knew he should be able to hear something, cries, whinnies and hooves. His world stayed silent. He felt a fierce pain consume his chest and he was thrust back into the darkness. Yet again the eyes appeared, this time more gentle, a softer shade, full of empathy, concern and compassion. He felt as if the eyes were embracing him, making the pain coursing through his body to subside a little. "Jim? JIM!" a voice reached out to him, growing louder "Corporal James Nicholls wake up!" His eyes shot open and he found himself in a tangle of blankets on the floor of his barracks, one leg still on his bed, his pyjamas stuck to him as did his hair. His breathing was heavy and despite the sweat he felt cold and was covered in goose bumps, a dull throbbing sensation at the base of his spine. "Jim, are you ok?" Tom Far was crouching over him, a hand on his shoulder, his red hair unusually messy in the style of one freshly out of bed.

"Yes… fine… thank you." James eventually managed, pulling himself up on his bed, not bothering to sort out his sheets until he was fully lying down. The pain in his back had intensified and he must have shown it as Tom was still looking at him, with a concern that could rival the eyes of his dream.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm fine. I must have fallen out of bed and banged my back or something."

"You should go see a doctor if it's still bad in the morning." Tom suggested as he clambered back into his own bed.

"Don't worry I will."

"Jim?" his voice was now a whisper.

"What?"

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Fine, these are just small beds that's all, it not the first time any of us has fallen out of one."

"I know, but you were screaming and tossing from side to side like mad, I thought you were having some sort of fit or something."

"No just a bad dream." He yawned and his eyelids began to feel like lead, with that he drifted back of onto a deep, peaceful, sleep.

He woke early next morning to an almost unbearable back pain. He attempted to get up and dressed and to the mess with everyone else but he was very slow and in excruciating agony. Tom offered to do his chores for him and he was grateful as he made his way down to the medical tent. On his way he met Jamie, who was still radiating happiness. His smile faltered as he noticed Jim wincing, hand on the small of his back hobbling slightly. He instantly knew something was wrong, Jim was not often ailed and did not complain when he was. He helped him to the tent but no one was there. After a few minutes wait a nurse finally showed up only to inform them that they could not see to him as they had minimal equipment and Dr Monroe was still off ill. There was only one thing for it, to go to the city general hospital.

Jamie had the car fetched, to allow for the smoothest ride possible. Jim did not want to go, he did not want to admit to such a childish injury as falling from ones bed after a nightmare. However, thanks to Jamie, he did not have a say in the matter.

They were met at reception by four nurses turned secretaries. One was quite obviously not interested in her post as she sat there admiring her nails, the second gave them and their uniforms the once over and a look that could kill, it was the third who took them and she seemed genuinely happy to help. The fourth just sat there smiling and flirtatiously fluttering her eyelashes at them. They went the general waiting room as directed. There they came across a variety of ailments, too important to wait for an appointment but not enough to be seen by a specialist. There was an elderly man looking deathly pale, even by Irish standards, with his hand to his head massaging his temples in a seeming attempt to rid himself of a chronic headache. A woman was sat opposite them, also giving them a brutal glare, rocking a constantly crying infant in her arms. Next to them sat a young man, his hand bleeding. One by one they shuffled in and back out again.

James ended up with a bottle of painkillers and ordered total bed rest for at least three days, and minimum exercise for anything up to a month after that. In the army this was not an option. This didn't stop Jamie from suggesting him going on leave for a while so he could recover at home, and more importantly get news from Elizabeth.

Back at the camp it was decided by the commanding officers he could have the two weeks bed rest but after that was nonnegotiable. He was fine with this, he didn't want to cause a fuss and his roommates and section had all offered to lighten his load. The only problem was the full equine training session coming up in five weeks, he didn't think his back would survive riding a horse especially not at the full pelt required. Time would tell. Until then a big wooden board was inserted under his mattress and Tom, Will, Eddie, Arthur and Jamie all helped lower him onto his bed, moving blankets and fluffing pillows as they did so to provide maximum support for his back. The drama of the day and his fitful sleep the night previously had exhausted him, though he was exceptionally grateful to his friends, their ado over his bedside was keeping him from much needed sleep.

Eventually they all peeled away, having this much needed peace led him into slumber. Once again he was in the darkness, the eyes ominously looming over him with their inferno stare. Once again he was riding into battle, killing nameless men. He notices nothing of their faces, he does not wish to. Most are in a state of undress and some have shaving foam around their faces. He feels the impact of their bodies as he slices into them, he thinks of home, of his wife (which he knows he doesn't have) and he thinks of their wives, children, siblings, parents, friends all whose lives have been taken because he took the life of the men he left motionless behind him. Still there is no sound. This time he knows what to expect, he braces himself, but when the pain in his chest arises it is just as potent as before. Once again the eyes appear as his soothing balm. This time he is not woken, the eyes continue to caress his every positive emotion until he is euphoric despite the pain, but the pain still persists. He feels himself grow lighter, he feels himself fly. He feels as he did as a boy when he would ride his beloved dapple-grey mare, Sapphire, through his fathers expansive estate, the woods breeze of the woods, the moistness of the river they would go through splashing him. But as he drifts, he drifts away from the eyes. He does not want to leave them. As they get smaller he sees them sadden, pining for him to stay. A tear forms in the corner, even though there is no eyelids, the tear falls and the splashes turn into a torrent, dragging him away.

When he awakens he is alone, his body aches and there is a tear in his eye.


	10. Chapter 10

A week into his confinement and Jim was already losing his patience. He was not the sort of person who could spend all day lazing around, he needed something to do. He was not aloud to change his position, the only time he was aloud up was to relieve himself, even then he had to ask someone to help him to lavatory and sit him up to eat. His posture meant he could not write or draw and had to hold books at an angle to read, which hurt his arms after a while. Everything had to be done for him and he felt like a burden on his friends. They had to feed him, read to him, write his letters for him and even had an out-of-hours nurse from the hospital come visit every three days to help him dress and wash. The only positives were that the terrible dream had stopped and the rest and pain killers had eased the pain in his back.

He had since heard back from Tom and apparently he would be in Dublin in approximately two weeks. He hoped it was not to bad, as well as his concern for Tom in relation to his father's health, he wished the old man to be alright so that it did not mean Tom having to leave his family and moving back to Ireland. After all this was just a posting and he wouldn't be here forever, but he would always return home.

The days past very slowly for Jim, he hated being a burden on his friends yet rejoiced every time a face appeared next to him in his increasingly solitary state. By the time the second week was up he'd had enough time to practise getting up and walking, which felt surreally new to him, when no one else was around to chide him. That Sunday he convinced Jamie he was well enough to go to church and was aided there by Tom Far and Will were met there by Eddie and Arthur. They had a chapel on campus and were glad of it, there were many news items around of Catholics attacking Anglican churches and with their previous experiences of the local attitude towards the British army they were sure to get a news article of their own by mixing the two.

He had never really enjoyed church, it's not that he wasn't religious, he was devoutly so. However, he preferred to pray his own prayers and not that of the ones forced upon the congregation, he found priests boorish and he never seemed to get a selection of the hymns he enjoyed no matter which church he went to. This church was exactly the same but the contrast from the last two weeks was a welcome change. It was over all too soon and he once again returned to his barracks. After the exertion he was exhausted and quickly fell asleep.

When he woke up Jamie was there on a chair beside him. They spoke for a while, discussed the church service and debated when he would be able to get back to his duties. It was supposed to be tomorrow, he would not have to do much exercise in the shooting practise and he was excused from the riding and running. Jim couldn't wait to feel at least slightly useful again and be rid of those four walls. Jamie was slightly more sceptical.

There was something not quite right about Jamie that day, James couldn't quite put his finger on it. He seemed edgy and fidgety and he was beginning to suspect something was wrong. He appeared impatient for something but spent time deliberating idle chatter on the weather and even a little on politics, two things that have never been known to interest him unless it got in the way of either a hunt or a party. Eventually Jim gave up and out and out asked him what was wrong.

He should have known.

Jamie's wanton nerves made his next sentence come out in a bit of a mess; it took Jim a few seconds to comprehend it.

Of course he wanted to propose to Lizzy. He thought that as a brother and not a father his blessings were un-required, though he didn't believe in a woman needing any permission but her own to marry. To him it was quite obvious he approved of their relationship, after all he was the one that made it happen in the first place. Despite this he was touched that Jim had considered asking. Even if it did seem a little odd to ask for his permission to ask their father's permission to ask Lizzy to marry him.

The next thing he knew Jamie had taken on a whole new persona. A persona that reminded Jim of how he and his sister used to act in the weeks leading up to Christmas, which also reminded him that that wasn't too far off, as children. He was giddy with a huge grin on his face and the speed of his speech increased rapidly.

When the time came for him to leave, he practically skipped out. This was the moment that Corporal Tom came in, looking rather confused. "What's up with him?"

Jim didn't quite know how to answer this, even Tom didn't know of his true social ranking, they were sort of on a 'don't ask don't tell' pact as neither said anything about the others accent or apparent upbringing. Though he suspected this was because of what happened to Tom's parents as well as his respect for others privacy. "Maybe because it's almost Christmas." Jim offered.

"What's that got to do with you?"

"He was discussing giving me a longer holyday, you know more recuperation time." this was not a complete lie, they had been discussing the holyday coming up in January, and they had been discussing Jim having an extended one as well as making arrangements for Jamie to come with him.

* * *

_**AN- Sorry it took a while, been busy. I'm going on holyday so probably wont get the chance to update until Tuesday 7**__**th**__** at least. Reviews on how it's going so far welcome. **_


	11. Chapter 11

The day of reckoning came around rather uneventfully, the evening after Jamie had visited Tom had brought him his rather dull lunch to which he was accustomed, they spoke of the trials of the day ahead for a short while then Tom had to leave to have his own lunch in the mess. That was the last thing Jim remembered before he fell into a restful dreamless sleep.

As usual the alarm sounded at 6:30 in the morning there was the usual sound of shuffling and groggy moans. Though unlike every other morning for the past few weeks, Jim too got out of bed, he was still in a lot of pain but he was determined. It took him a while longer than usual to get ready but that was to be expected. Though at approximately five minutes after his section was supposed to start shooting he had to allow Tom to help him tie his shoes and smooth his trousers, as the act of bending down was still almost unbearable.

After hobbling his way to the shooting range he sheepishly apologised to his men, he felt he had let them down both in his absence and his lateness. Thankfully they seemed more concerned about him. He had gotten to know his section quite well in their short time together, the lower ranks were not supposed to mingle with the higher and vice versa but this rule was often ignored. Despite their long time of separation he sensed a quiet and apprehensive atmosphere around the usually outspoken and often jocular group. He suspected it was out of concern for his wellbeing and perhaps a little for the uneasy feeling of being watched by an officer, the feeling one of inferior rank inherits in basic training. This feeling, too, makes him uneasy. He dreads to think of himself being assessed in his current condition but he also knows that it is more than likely the concerned eye of Jamie that falls on him. Either way he must push himself to try his very hardest to reassure the officer and his men and if not a little of himself of his recovery.

The shooting went well, not as good as expected though, but not terrible. Breakfast followed and Jim did not realise how much he was in need of a sit down until he reached his chair. He sat there alone for a little while as Arthur, Will, Eddie and Tom had all offered to fetch his food for him. He did not know why it takes three men to get an extra portion for just one but by now he knew better than to argue. And at that moment in time he was glad of the chance to let out a big sigh in frustration at his own body without having anyone around to hear it and for the chance to pull himself together before his friends made their way to the table. As he suspected only one of them, Will, was carrying his plate balanced on top of his own while Eddie had two drinks.

"Would sir like anything else?" Will joked placing his plate in front of him. This made Jim laugh and hurt his back even more; though Will did not know it he did a fine impression of their old family butler.

"Well, now that you mention it Samways I wish for my papers to be ironed and brought up." Even as a joke James surprised himself at how like his father he sounded.

They all chuckled at this and seemed to relax at their friend's apparent lift in mood. Not much was said after that as all where famished, they ate in comfortable silence. Eddie had just opened his mouth in order to speak when the sound came to signal the end of the meal, it was an oddly short breakfast though that was to be expected as they had the full discipline exercise but a week away.

Usually Jim would run just behind his section and threaten disciplinarians at anyone who fell behind him sometimes under the watchful gaze of an officer. Today he had to put up with standing in the middle of one of the exercise yards barking orders as the men ran round. This was a particularly relentless part of training as they were expected to keep going for three quarters of an hour at a fast pace as a pose to the jog around the perimeter of the camp and Jim could not help but feel that this was his fault as there was undoubtedly some rearranging of the routine for his sake.

Riding was next on the agenda and his section were to join with Tom's so he was unneeded for the four hours of training and was all but demanded by his men, his peers and Jamie to have a rest. He was glad of this. He made his way painfully slowly to his barracks.

There were a few thread bear and well worn armchairs at the end and decided to settle himself in them rather than getting undressed for bed. At first his back hurt even more as he bent to sit down but eventually it eased and he managed to drift off.

Once again he found himself alone in the dark and was unable to move, he screamed for help but none came, he knew they wouldn't. Suddenly a pair of giant, faceless, fierce green eyes peered down on him, their anger burning him from the inside. The green of the eyes turned into a field and he suddenly found himself in the saddle. The horse was unfamiliar to him, he knew this, but in his dream it was as if he were riding his childhood mare in a bewildering mix of fiction and reality that only a dream could produce, though he had experienced the dream enough for it to take on a hole new familiarity. They were riding along with other horses and men, all bearing the same sinister lance which he now brandished in his hand, its blade ripping through unidentified bodies as if they were the sandbags used in training. By now he was used to not hearing anything, no cries, whinnies and hooves. He notices nothing of their features, he does not wish to. Most are in a state of undress and some have shaving foam around their faces. He feels the impact of their bodies as he slices into them, he thinks of home, of his wife (which he knows he doesn't have) and he thinks of their wives, children, siblings, parents, friends all whose lives have been taken because he took the life of the men he left motionless behind him. Still there is no sound. Again he knows what to expect, he braces himself, but when the pain in his chest arises it is just as potent as every time before. Once again the eyes appear as his soothing balm. The eyes continue to caress his every positive emotion until he is euphoric despite the pain, but the pain still persists. He feels himself grow lighter, he feels himself fly. He feels as he did as a boy when he would ride his Sapphire through his father's expansive estate, the breeze of the woods, the moistness of the river they would go through splashing him. But as he drifts, he drifts away from the eyes. He does not want to leave them. As they get smaller he sees them sadden, pining for him to stay. A tear forms in the corner, even though there is no eyelids, the tear falls and the splashes turn into a torrent, dragging him away.

Yet again at this point he awakens. He checked the clock; he had only been asleep for fifteen minutes. He sits there, at a loss of what to do. He does not feel much like resting anymore, nor does his back feel like moving. He eventually decides to make his way to his bed and, with great difficulty, retrieves his stash of letters from underneath; he takes them to the communal writing desk and sits there looking at them for a few minutes. The last letters from his family he had not been able to go into anything at all really as that would mean revealing who his family where to those writing his letters. Similarly he had not gotten much of a reply from anyone as a result apart from the obvious concern. He decided that it would be easier to start Tom's letter first though he was unsure about how long it would take to get there and when it was exactly that Tom was setting off. He figured there would be no harm in the letter getting there after as he could always fill him in on everything anyway and it was unlikely for any of the other servants to read the letter as it was the butler who was in charge of the post and a letter from Ireland to the chauffeurs cottage was not unheard of so there would be no need to pry.

_Dear Tom,_

_ As I am unsure if the timings of either the post this close to Christmas or your departure for Dublin this letter may be slightly redundant. If you receive it upon your return than you need not read any further, you will already be aware of what I have to tell you. However, if you are not and are still at home I implore you to read on, as I am aware your reply will not reach me before you do you will perhaps not see the point in the desperation of my words. _

_Before I continue further I thank you for your concern for my well being, I assure you once again there is no need for you to send your Ma round with chicken soup, though it would amuse me to see how that would be handled round here. I also assure you that I while I may not be at my physical peak I really am getting better by the day. As I write to you my colleagues are partaking in a riding discipline, I am not for obvious reasons, but I have returned to my duties under the watchful eye of Lieutenant Stewart. I would also like to repeat my sympathies and good wishes to your father._

_What I am about to reveal to you might seem a little strange but I must admit I am on the end of my tether and can not suppress my concerns any longer. You see I keep having this recurring dream, well more of a night mare really. I know I must sound rather pampered and childish to be so concerned over something so trivial but I feel it is messing with my head. I do not know why I feel the sudden urge to tell you, or in fact what I expect you to do with this information for I know you can do nothing._

_It starts with me being paralysed in a silent darkness, then these eyes appear and they look at me in such a way, I can not even begin to describe the intensity of fear I feel at these awful eyes. Next a field appears and my regiment and I are charging, lances at the ready, at a camp of men. I kill them Tom, kill! I can not bring myself to step on a worm if it finds its way onto the path, let alone kill another human being. All this action and still no sound. Next thing I know there is the most unimaginable, most excruciating pain I have ever felt, more than I've ever thought possible feel in my chest. After that I'm plunged into the darkness again, still in pain, but the eyes come back. There different eyes, very similar but different. They make me feel so good, even the pain is bearable in those eyes. And just like that I am ripped from them in a torrent of tears that fall from their angelic depths. _

_I don't know what to do, it is driving me mad, sometimes I fear sleep in the eventuality of its return, and just as I feel safe again it hits me like a bullet. _

_Yours faithfully _

_Jim_

He lets out a sigh of relief, somehow it feels so much better to have this wait lifted off his shoulders, like it was something he was meant to do. He composed himself to reply to his other letters, he had to reassure his Mama, Papa, Porter the butler and Mrs Young the house keeper of his progressing recovery, he knew the ability to write the letters himself would ease their minds a little despite the fact they could not see the how much pain he really was in. And he had to write to his sister to assure her of Jimmies wellbeing and undying love and devotion.

With his new found feeling of weightlessness he decided to store his letters back under his bed for posting tomorrow and return himself to his slumber in the arm chair. This time the eyes did come back again, but it was the second pair, the kind pair. He rejoiced in his new found euphoria, for the first time in what felt like forever, without even a hint of pain.


	12. Chapter 12

The next few days passed in much the same way, shooting practice, breakfast, exercises and then he was discharged from riding. During this time he predominately slept, but as the strength of his medication progressively weakened so did his need for rest. Jim filled his time between rests by writing, reading and drawing.

Since returning to health he found that the amount of letters he received had more than doubled, along with the usual ones from his Mama, Tom and Elizabeth he also received one from the butler wishing him well, a similar one from the head housemaid, some from family friends, a few from the house keeper and one from at least seven old friends from school and university that he could only assume found out through Jamie. However, one correspondence that really stood out to him was his Papa. In his seven years at Eton, three years at Cambridge and almost a year in the army he had never received a letter from his father. Any reply to his letters either came on the next visit or in one of the letters from his mother. In his early teens this upset James greatly as other boys would open their post and be told how much they where missed, and the hunts and fishing trips they would embark on once the holidays came. But he soon learnt that just wasn't the kind of man his father was. He was not one for showing affection. Jim could not remember a time they had ever hugged. As he got older he saw how other men of similar status treated their offspring at social gatherings and came to realise that he was in fact quite lucky. While his father did not show love, he knew it was there. It was there in his eyes, it was there in the fact that he was not either stopped from following his own hobbies or completely unacknowledged if he was not everything he was required to be. Yes, it was true his father did not agree with his desire to become a lawyer, his political views, he disapproved of his love for poetry and theatre and music and of coarse his love of drawing. And he in return disapproved of his father's politics and his love of bloodspot and his narrow minded patriotism and his desperation to see James produce an heir. From the outside it would seem they didn't get on at all, but they did. Because they loved each other. Neither ever said it but they did. They learnt how to agree to disagree when it came to politics, James Senior did not stop his son from reading or following left wing texts and philosophies if James Junior did not voice them in front of guests and influential people important to his father. Jim did not tell his father when he went to see a play and was not asked why he was going to London. When it came to the hunting season Jim did not express his disgust and was therefore not asked to join and would have a pardon should anyone enquire as to his absence. As for the subject of an heir, while Jim did not have the slightest inclination towards marriage or fatherhood, his father was of the surprisingly liberal view that marriage was not just a thing of convenience and was happy to let his son find a wife suitable for his happiness as well as his breeding and was aware that this was probably not possible in one so young. Unlike his wife and daughter, he was willing to wait until James came across such a person in his own time.

That was why this letter came as such a shock. It was pretty poor as far as letters went, there was not much content…

_Dear Jim,_

_ I hope you are recovering, I know you already said you were but then you would. I know you are not one for the want of depending on people and do not wish for us to worry. I have spoken to some of my old friends and have subsequently arranged for you to have your up and coming leave this January prolonged by two weeks. I am aware there is probably much you would like to do upon your homecoming but I request that you keep the first Thursday completely open, there are things I wish to discus with yourself and Lieutenant Stewart._

_Yours sincerely, Papa_

This was a rather peculiar article indeed. To Jim it made no sense from start to finish, '_Dear Jim' _(he couldn't remember a time his father had called him anything other than James) and it was not in his fathers gung-ho attitude to be worried about anything. As for needing to speak with him and Jamie he could not think of any reason for it, it could not be for wedding plans or such the like because Jamie and Lizzy where currently only beaus as Jamie was planning on asking in person this visit. But whatever it was he could see no reason why it should have to be scheduled and why the subject could not be brought up in the letter.

He was just about to pen a reply when a knock came at the door. "Enter." James said, glad of any distraction to take him away from the uncomfortable business of answering the awkward letter. Jamie's head peered round the door.

"Did you receive a letter from your Papa?"

"Yes, why did you?" At this Jamie looked down at the carpet and scuffed his feet.

"Yes, did yours say anything about the first Thursday back?"

"Yes."

"And…"

"And what?"

"What did he say about it?"

"Just to keep it free because he had things to discus with us."

"Did he say what?"

"No, did he say anything to you?"

"No"

"Well. We'll have to wait and see."

"It must be something important, he's not really the sort for letters is he. Do you think it might be something to do with your injury? Or something else?" This last bit was said in a whisper, a rarity for Jamie.

"I have no idea."

"OK, well see you later."

"See you later." Jamie left but stopped halfway out the door.

"By the way you're due to be back on policing duties on Friday. Are you up to it?"

"Yes, I'm fine really; you know there's no reason why I can't ride."

"The doctor said so and that's a reason." Jim rolled his eyes. "Bye then."

"Bye" with that Jamie left.

Jim decided he was shattered after all and made his way to bed.


	13. Chapter 13

Words could not describe how happy Jim was to be doing police duty. What had at first seemed like a curse had now become a blessing and if that did not make his day then the afternoon off and the arrival of Tom the chauffeur.

He woke at the usual time, got dressed at the usual speed (though admittedly with some discomfort), had breakfast, returned to his barracks for quarter of an hour, read his letters and set off to meet Will by the gate. They walked to the police station and gave a quick nod to Simmie as he walked past. Though Jim had not seen him since that first day Will had patrolled with him in James's place as he seemed rather keen to do the job at hand, namely beating up slightly loud Irish people that were clearly protesters or particularly quiet Irish people who were obviously conspirators. Jim had learned that in this time Will had grown less understanding of Simmie's aversion to the Irish which made Will have an aversion of him. He made it clear on the walk up that Private Simon Hay was not to be spoken to with fear that if he heard another profanity followed by the words 'Mick's or Paddy's' he would not be in control of his actions.

It was unusually busy in the streets of Dublin and they found it very difficult to leave their usual space between themselves and anyone else. When Jim had remarked upon how surprisingly busy it was he was almost knocked back by Will's response, "Well it is five days until Christmas."

"Five days!?"

"Five days."

"Really?"

"You been living under a rock for the past few weeks mate?"

"Well I knew it was soon, I didn't know it was that soon. It hasn't been just over two weeks since the dance?"

"Well it was, and I know you slept through the first week but weren't you were the one complaining how slow the time was going?"

"Well yes, but… I haven't got anyone anything, and I've no idea how long it'll take to get a big parcel to Oxford. It'll take even longer this time of year."

"Will you calm down, I'm sure your family will understand if things are a little late."

"But what about the people here?"

"Jim no one expects anything. If its really bothering you why not do some shopping now, and we've got this afternoon off."

"I can't do it now we're on duty, and I've made plans for this afternoon."

"I'm sure there won't be any riots while you nip into some shops."

"But what about our duties?"

"Our stupid duties that neither of us care about? Jim no one is going to report us while we go into a shop and even if they did we could just say we were 'patrolling' them. Anyway your mate Stewart won't let anything happen to us." Will nudged Jim's arm at this last part.

"Who said he was my 'mate?'"

"Anyone else stupid enough to fall out of bed would have been told to man up and get on with it, you got a car to the hospital, an offer of longer recuperation time than necessary and a few visits to boot." Jim knew he meant some of it jovially and any foe pars where on Jamie's part but he cursed himself for making it so obvious all the same. His thoughts were soon rudely interrupted by a scuffle across the road. A practically portly but burly looking butcher was dragging a young man by the collar out of his shop door and into thee street, shouting abuse as he did so.

He pushed the young man onto his back and started to pummel him with his fists. James stood there in shock, never had he seen such contempt spewing from one human being to another. He felt Will tugging on his sleeve and promptly followed him to the other side of the road, almost getting run over by a speeding delivery van in the process. At this his instincts kicked in. He grabbed one of the butcher's arms and pulled it so that it was pushed against the small of his back, not that anything about this ma was small. This slowing of blows meant Will had a chance to pull the other man off the floor and out of the butchers reach. Jim turned to try and reach the other arm of the struggling butcher to try and keep some sort of hold over the brute when he noticed a half dressed young woman covering the majority of her modesty with a blanket staring from the shop door. By now he was acutely aware they were attracting an audience. He shouldn't have let his guard down for one second, the captive managed to kick back and hit Jim in his groin thus rendering him temporarily immobile as he wrenched his arm free and lunged at Will and the other man. "DA NO!" the young woman cried. At this the man stopped mid air and surprisingly nimbly turned to face her. Jim looked from them too Will, who was consumed with trying to the young man gain consciousness, and back again unsure of what to do.

The butcher began to square up to the girl. "NO, WHAT DO YOU MEEN NO? HOW DARE YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO. YOU LITTLE SLUT!" he moved to take a swing at the girl, who looked in her late teens to early twenties, and stopped as he saw her cower and wince. "Get back inside." He said surprisingly softly.

"But…" she whimpered

"I SAID GET!" he bellowed and pointed, she took one saddened glance at the man coming round in Will's arms and fled into the shop. "AND WHAT ARE ALL YOU LOT STARING AT?" with this the crowed dispersed into a sea of mumbles. He made one look at Jim and Will which clearly indicated 'report me and I'll come after you with a meat clever' and stepped into the shop, slammed the door and flipped the 'open' sign to say 'closed'. James moved forward and knelt by Will to assist with the young man and instantly regretted it. Without the adrenaline rushing through his body he felt the pain in his back more intensely than he had for days and there was still a practically painful throbbing sensation still in his groin.

"Get off me you despot prick." The man mumbled to Will and made a feeble attempt to push him off without seeming to poses the power of much movement. It was now his eyes were open that he recognised the lad. His sandy blonde hair and thin face may be distorted by blood and the slight displacement of his nose but there were no mistaking them eyes. It was the young man that tried to fight with him at the dance. _Why in all the people in Dublin did it have to be him? _Jim thought to himself. He managed to right himself slightly and Will let go, unsure what to do in a situation where there help was obviously needed but not wanted. Paddy as Jim recalled his name was, pointed a shaky finger at his face "You. What do you want?" he slurred and stumbled a little as he stepped forward.

"Errrr…nothing." James was as equally unsure.

"Oh think you're a wise crack hey?"

"Erm not really."

"Ha you're so bloody funny. I know what you're after."

"And what is that exactly?"

"My girl…" he vaguely gestured to the shop "…I saw you looking at her! And my freedom…" he now pointed at Jims chest "…and my sister..." he spat this last word "… she told me she danced with you." He tried to jab Jim in the chest but missed by a good few inches and fell forward. James caught him though there was a part of him that would have been happy to see him fall face first into the pavement. He pulled Paddy's face up but he was out cold.

"Who's he?" Will had a bemused look on his face.

"The one who almost started a fight with me at the dance."

"oh."

"What should we do with him now?"

"Aren't we meant to report fights and stuff?"

"Don't know, I think the police are only interested in ones concerning rebellion aren't they? This is just a domestic. Besides we can't bring him in in this state and I don't fancy getting that butcher involved."

"Yeh you're right, so what do we do?"

"Take him to hospital?"

"But what if his family can't afford the treatment and all he needs is a good clean up?" Jim mentally kicked himself, for someone who prided themselves on being integrated in for want of a better word lower class society; he forgot that many families simply refused doctors help because they did not have the money.

"A good clean up? Will, look at his nose. Maybe we should just take him home."

"And where is his home exactly?"

"About a twenty five minute walk away, at least I think it's his home. His sister lives there. Well at least I think she lived there, she was there. And I think I can remember the way."

"There's a few too many 'I thinks' in there for my liking Jim."

"Any better ideas?"

"Leave him in a pub?"

"Will!"

"Fine, I suppose even if your wrong it's time off this stupid patrol." Jim tried to lift the mans weight up further to carry him but his back shot into further agony and he winced. "I'll take him if you want Jim."

"Thanks."

"Wouldn't want Stewart to give you more time off now would we?"

"Why ever not?"

"Because I'm not spending another Friday with Private Hay thank you very much. Oh and we'll miss you of course." He winked and Jim led he way. He was surprised how much he actually remembered, It was quite a while ago now, he had only gone the once and it was hardly such a momentous occasion that it would stick in ones brain.

When they got there there was no one about, Jim instinctively walked over to the horses, or horse as the big black draught was missing. The cob stuck her head out to him in greeting, he stroked her nose. Will followed just behind with a still unconscious Paddy draped over his shoulder. "Hello?" Jim called "Anyone there?"

There was no reply.

"HELLO?" yelled Will. Jim shot him a look as the horse started a bit. "What there's no point in being polite, chances are he doesn't live here and we're about to be done for beating some civilian up."

"Hello." Both men turned to see the short boy from the dance, Sean, he had to admit James was a little disappointed to not see Aideen but he had no idea why.

"Erm….we believe this is yours." Will said biting his lip slightly and gesturing to the limp body with his free arm.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph what happened to him?" Sean breathed. Will and Jim looked at each other.

"He got into a fight with the butcher." Jim offered, wondering whether their story was credible enough or not with the evidence.

"Which butcher, the one he works for, the one he steals from or the one who's daughter he… ahem… is well acquainted with?" this was said in a manor which good-humoured as it sounded had some sort of truth ringing through it and a little bit of embarrassment at the end.

"The latter we think."

"Ah, right. I better get him in then." he walked up to them and took Paddy onto his shoulder, no mean feat for someone of his stature. "Thanks." He said and walked off someplace behind the stables.

Will and James turned and left back the way they came.

"Well that was an eventful first day back." They both laughed at this.

"Hey what about your shopping?"

"I can do that tomorrow while you lot are riding, that way you won't see your present."

"What are your big plans for this afternoon anyway?"

"Just meeting a friend."

"A lady friend?"

"No Will!" He tried to cool his temper after remembering what Arthur had told him all that time ago after the dance. "Just a friend, and he's a he."

"Who is he then?"

"You don't know him."

"How can I not know him, you've only spent one day off where we haven't gone out together and you where there, so how can you just magic up a new friend in a different country?"

"We've known each other for years, he lives near us in Oxford, but he's Irish and his Da's ill so he's coming back and I'm going to meet him off the ferry."

"Won't his family meet him?"

"He's the oldest, his younger sister lives in Kerry with her husband and the other seven siblings are all under ten, I guess it's too much for his Mam to bring them all and she doesn't want to leave his dad, and she doesn't want to leave him with the kids."

"Blimey nine kids!"

"I know and there should be more." This last comment Jim did not mean to say out loud.

"How come?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Why?"

"Because she's dead."

"Oh."

"Killed by a British soldier actually…" He ended up telling Will the whole story, at least the parts he knew. He didn't know why, he guessed that he felt like more people needed to know. It was a problem that needed fixing and he did not know many people being in the class and occupation that he was that would be sympathetic to the problem because they were the problem, which meant they were the only ones who could fix it.

**AN- Sorry it's taken a while, some stuff happened. Hoping to get more done soon. Let me know how you're liking it so far.**


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